


Diplomatic Relations

by greygerbil



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, First Time Together, M/M, Wedding, Wedding Night, first kiss together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25769755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Since humans have only joined the intergalactic community a scant few years ago, there is much about his husband-to-be Clemens that Tivek does not know yet. However, some of the secrets Clemens brings to the marriage are not those of humanity, but wholly his own.
Relationships: Male Human Ambassador/Male Alien Ambassador He Is Arranged To Marry, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 133
Collections: Original Works Opportunity 2020





	Diplomatic Relations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenewbuzwuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewbuzwuzz/gifts).



“Look natural, more photos.”

Clemens put his arm around Tivek’s waist and gave him his brightest smile, head turned just so that the camera would catch it, but without taking his eyes off Tivek’s face. Tivek calmed himself with thought to the gravity of the event, as amusement was so easily identified in his people by the way the many long transmitters that grew from their heads jittered with mirth.

As someone who himself knew how to play along with the media as much as any ambassador in his position should, Tivek had to concede Clemens was a master. Any random picture taken of them tonight would have his fiancé looking just as polished as they had in the staged photo op before the Node’s Great Exhibition Centre earlier this evening. Tivek doubted he himself would cut such an impressive figure, as he’d never been particularly photogenic, but watching Clemens dazzle reporters and guests alike had been entertaining long for before he’d been his fiancé and still remained so.

Clemens waited for the journalists to finish their job before he gently nudged Tivek further into the crowd, where they wouldn’t be subjected to quite so many camera lenses. Somehow, he managed to keep them moving, throwing out a friendly but passing greeting here and turning down a demand to join some group there, all with a grin. His hand remained in Tivek’s back to keep him from succumbing to these distractions out of a sense of duty or politeness, until he had manoeuvred them into a corner of the cavernous Exhibition Centre’s entrance hall. They were shielded from view by a large plant that Tivek did not recognise, possibly in origin from the urakian homeworld, judging by its hard, pointed leaves that seemed fit for arid climate. Aside from specific rooms adjusted to their cultures, decorations in the Exhibition Centre were mostly urakian or shan zhean. Both the alna, Tivek’s own kind, and the humans were relative newcomers to interspecies relationships, though the humans had only met other sentient space-faring species some four years ago while the alna had already been in contact for twenty-two years. The Node, the interplanetary diplomatic base, had been built and maintained mainly by the shan zhe and the urak, who had known of each other for more than three hundred years.

From a waiter with a passing tray, Clemens obtained two glasses of pale beige sparkling liquid and handed one to Tivek.

“What was this again?” Tivek asked, turning the glass in his hand. “I keep forgetting the name. I really should remember it – it is always served at human functions.”

“Champagne. Cheers,” Clemens said, holding his glass to Tivek, who touched it gently with his own. Toasting was one of the first human customs he had learned about.

“Cheers.” Tivek took a sip from his glass. “I hope the clothes are not uncomfortable yet? They are quite heavy.”

As was custom for these diplomatic weddings as Tivek’s people practised them, traditions of both partners had been mixed for the ceremony. Clemens and him each wore an intricate web of thin golden chains on their heads and wide emerald robes with colourful floral prints, which were designed to match the green hues of alnaian skin, but looked quite handsome against the bronze of Clemens’ complexion and the reddish brown of his long hair, too. In exchange for Clemens bowing to this tradition, they would exchange rings and spend their wedding night in a bed instead of meditating in a forest, as Tivek might have expected, since this was the habit of the human culture Clemens belonged to.

“Oh, they’re perfect,” Clemens said, lifting one thick fold of fabric with his hand. “I mean, just look at the human men here! For some reason, our ancestors have decided to reduce all the myriad many formal clothes we once did have for my gender to suits ranging from blue to black. You might go for brown if you’re feeling saucy. They can be handsome, but the flourishes are added only in the details and when it comes to standing out – I’m not sure if you can tell, but I don’t go for subtlety.”

Tivek smiled into his champagne.

“I would have never noticed.”

Clemens raised a brow at him. “Criticism already? We’re not even married yet,” he joked.

“It wasn’t,” Tivek said. “You’re popular at our embassy. Since alna are by nature forced to be more obvious than humans, boldness does not bother us.” He ran a finger over the transmitters that hung over his shoulders down to his waist, the long, translucently green strands that humans often said looked like thick hairs to them. Whether recoiling in fear, straightening in anger, shivering with amusement, fluttering with joy, you could hardly hide your feelings without a hood or hat, which consequently were considered the marks of untrustworthy people. “When we heard you were chosen for the diplomatic bond, my colleagues and me were quite relieved, to tell you the truth. No offence to your co-workers, of course. We simply thought you were a good fit.”

“Oh, now I’m trying to imagine who you were dreading. I have ideas. I’ll get that information out of you eventually, once we have pillow talk,” Clemens said, making Tivek smile again. “Anyway, I’m flattered, if a little surprised. From the times we talked, it seemed you were among the more tranquil of your people. Not a lot of activity here.” He gestured at his own long hair to indicate Tivek’s transmitters. “I can see your superiors liking me, but I actually figured _you_ might find me too much.”

“Really? I thought we always got along quite well when we met around the Node,” Tivek said, transmitters twitching briefly in surprise.

“We did! But I’ve watched you make pleasant conversation with urakian mercenary war lords, so I could hardly feel special.”

Tivek chuckled. Clemens had not been a wholly unexpected pick. Though he was not a very high-ranking diplomat, his charm made him the foremost choice of the human embassy whenever they needed someone to make a good impression. Besides that, humans did not have a concept like the diplomatic bond, an alna idea based on the notion that the intimate connection between two strangers from different cultures or places should function as an ideal and test for the relationship between their people. Consequently, there had not been many human volunteers, from what Tivek had heard, and Tivek could see Clemens rise easily to the top of such a field despite his comparatively short career in the embassy.

“The war lords speak to me, but they buy you drinks by the end of the evening,” Tivek pointed out. “Be that as it may, I might be a bit quieter, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate other temperaments. Though you must also allow me a question if we’re to be open: I have heard that most human cultures have done away with the concept of a fully arranged marriage. You asked to be placed in one. Why is that?”

“Love is the ideal, but people marry for all sorts of reasons when you look deeper. Besides, it’s hardly a coincidence that the son of a filthy rich space ship tycoon hardly ever ends up with someone who sweeps the floor in mummy’s factory. I think we humans are often more calculated than we admit in our choices of partners, even when true feelings exist,” Clemens said with a shrug and grinned. “This is my bit of cynicism for the evening. As for me, you already heard me say it! I just like to stand out from the crowd. What better way to do that than to be the first human to marry an alna?”

This was not the full truth, Tivek could tell, but though humans were harder to read, he did not get the sense that Clemens had been strong-armed. Though he might have been the best, there doubtless would have been at least a few other candidates, so the human embassy hadn’t needed to force anyone. He was still happy the choice had fallen on Clemens and perhaps he would find out in time what had brought Clemens to his side.

“Clemens! Tivek!”

A shan zhean man slithered towards them. As he emerged from the thick of the crowd as more than a flicker of shimmering blue scales, Tivek recognised him as Hamal Lawan, chief administrator of the Node’s festivities and functions. His stern glance fell on them with the disappointed reproach he held for all who were not on schedule within his domain. Any ambassador on the Node was bound to have suffered his ill mood at some point or another, but if nothing else you had to give him that he kept things moving, with force if necessary.

“The ceremony is about to begin,” he said sharply. “You two should already be inside!”

“The ceremony?” Clemens asked, eyes wide. “But what about the seven witnesses to the marriage? I haven’t seen any of them yet.”

“What?” Hamal stabbed frantically at the screen of his datapad. “I haven’t heard anything about any witnesses…”

Clemens broke out into a grin and Tivek rolled his eyes at him, though his treacherous transmitters shuddered briefly even as he suppressed his smile.

“The ceremony itself is alnaian except for the rings and the vows, Hamal,” Tivek said. “No witnesses, only officiants. It’s a busy day, I think Clemens just got confused.”

“Right. My mistake,” Clemens said with a beatific smile.

Hamal frowned at him, but seemed to decide that staying on time was more important than starting a fight with Clemens. He ushered them onwards to the door at the other end of the entrance hall and watched that they had reached the middle of the room it led to before he turned away. Soon, guests also began spilling in from the entrance hall through the narrow paths cut into the rows of seats that encircled the round auditorium.

After Tivek and Clemens had taken up their position at the room’s centre, they gave their best smiles for the rolling cameras of several dozen human, alnaian and general interstellar news stations who lined the first rows and far walls to capture every angle. As the guests found their seats, it became evident that the entirety of the Node’s higher-paid staff was here, including the employees of all four embassies and several members of the Pan-Galactic Council. The alnaians were the ones who placed the greatest diplomatic importance on weddings, but over the weeks this had been planned it had become clear that everyone saw this connection as a sort of social induction of humankind into intergalactic society.

Tivek took a deep breath and tried to call himself to order to stop the tense winding of his transmitters. He was not prone to weak nerves, but as far as diplomatic expectations for a marriage went, these were quite steep. He’d known this, of course, but it was one thing to be intellectually aware and another to face the evidence.

A hand brushed against his own, five slim fingers to his own three thicker ones.

“I feel like we are about to play a fancy concert or give a lecture,” Clemens said quietly, letting his gaze wander over the circles of ascending rows of wooden seats. “It’s interesting. I read in your embassy’s documents that almost all alnaian ceremonies take place in round rooms like this. Is that true?”

Tivek had a feeling Clemens was trying to keep him talking to distract him.

“Yes, the circle is pivotal for the majority of our cultures,” he conceded gratefully. “It signifies perfect unity to us and our oldest surviving philosophy texts took the circle for the shape of the universe. That’s why important events that affect the community always take place in the middle of circles.” He pulled a few of his transmitters straight, though they curled right back up. “Given that, it’s almost surprising that none of us ever came to symbolise marriage by wearing rings. We never exchanged any jewellery for such occasions, but I have a feeling this might be a custom some of us will copy from humanity in the future.”

“It seems to fit right in,” Clemens agreed. “I think that’s a good omen for the relationship between our peoples.”

Tivek nodded his head and would have answered, but by then the alnaian officiants had been jockeyed into the room by Hamal. Voices quieted around them as they approached with slow, measured steps. By the time the officiants had reached the middle of the auditorium, it was dead silent, as their bearing commanded automatic attention and respect, even from those who had never been at an alnaian ceremony before.

Wordlessly, the six officiants formed a circle around Clemens and Tivek. Clemens, who had evidently read the briefing the embassy had prepared quite closely, turned to Tivek and offered his hands. Tivek placed his own gently over Clemens’ palms.

When the officiants began to sing in an ancient language, remembered these days in sounds and syllables only, Tivek closed his eyes and imagined the circles like they formed on a pond after a stone had been dropped in the water: Clemens and him at the centre, the officiants, the auditorium, the vaguely round shape of the Node’s wards, the Milky Way, the universe. One small change in its own way affecting all of space. He could feel his transmitters finally settle against the nape of his neck.

As he opened his eyes again, he saw Clemens’ watching him with intrigue. When the two of them had been among the crowd this evening, Tivek had not felt much different than any other time they had met at some event, but reality set in now that by the end of the festivities, they would leave together.

The officiants broke apart after the song was ended. Two of them whispered among themselves and from the way their transmitters twisted themselves into curls, Tivek could tell they were anxious about this part of the ceremony. After their brief, hushed discussion, Tivek was handed the slender ring that would fit his husband’s finger and Clemens received the broader one which would go on the thicker digit on Tivek’s hand. Clemens gave them a quick nod before he took Tivek’s hand again and slipped the ring on his finger.

“I, Clemens Artavasdos, take you, Tivek Kenet Hijati, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

Tivek mirrored his gesture and then his words: “I, Tivek Kenet Hijati, take you, Clemens Artavasdos, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

Tivek had read up on the custom, but found that the short, plain vows Clemens had chosen seemed to have little specific origin at this point, having once belonged to certain religions, but now being part of common ritual. He’d admittedly hoped to glean a little more of Clemens’ history from them, but decided he would have to be patient. Perhaps Clemens had simply wanted to pick something that many humans would recognise. Tivek, too, had taken that into consideration, choosing a better-known type of wedding ceremony over a local one he was more familiar with. They were still representatives in their marriage, after all.

However, as he stood there looking at the rings, Tivek was reminded with sudden vehemence that even the most willing ambassador was bound to forget some detail of this or that foreign custom eventually. Clemens leaned down to kiss him and as this part of the ceremony had completely slipped Tivek’s mind, his transmitters stood in surprise. He just managed to grasp Clemens’ elbow, reciting to himself a few of the common mantras to pacify his mind. Hopefully, this would make sure the picture that all the cameras would no doubt zoom in on wouldn’t leave him looking completely startled out of his wits to all who knew to read an alna, including the man kissing him.

It was a sweet kiss, though. Not inappropriate, but just firm enough to feel like more than a show. Tivek parted from Clemens smiling.

-

The rest of the evening, Tivek barely saw anything of his husband. Between politician, reporters, and embassy employees, they only managed to share a few brief conversations until, around midnight, Hamal and his people started to dim the lights and announce over the speaker system that the Exhibition Centre would be closed within thirty minutes.

Tivek went in search of Clemens and found him only when Clemens tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“There’s a staff door at the back. Would you like to head out that way? It’ll make the walk to our hotel shorter, too.”

“That’s a good idea. Let me text Hamal that we did not vanish,” Tivek said, quickly pulling up his datapad to type in the message. “It’s good you have an alternate route. Captain Raveg and Commander Elvan, the envoys from the Alna Shared Military Services, really wanted to talk to me and I’ve managed to avoid them for now. I think if I run into them, we will spend the night in my office.”

“They’d make you work on your wedding night? How dare they?” Clemens said, pulling the corners of his mouth downwards.

Tivek chuckled, pocketing his datapad again. “A lot of the alna don’t quite take this human type of wedding night seriously yet, I’m afraid. If we went off to meditate, it would be different, but as it is, they think we are just going to have fun.” He smiled as he lowered his voice. “And I must warn you, since you will likely run into them at some point: neither Captain Raveg nor Commander Elvan approve of fun at all.”

Clemens laughed. He held the staff door open for Tivek and led him down the dull steel hallway behind it, confidently choosing a direction when they arrived at a crossroads.

“Oh, but I do so enjoy playing with hard-ass military types,” he said with a sigh. “I guess for the sake of peace I will behave.”

Another fork in their path, and again Clemens strode forward without hesitation.

“You seem to know your way around here,” Tivek pointed out.

“I confess I may have left through the back door with company a couple of times before. Not since our engagement, though.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Did no one tell you that? I must have been sneakier than I thought. I do hope you’re not taking it the wrong way that I’m bringing you on the same journey as my short-lived conquests. It just seemed the quickest way out.”

“Well, we are leaving for the same purpose, aren’t we?” Tivek answered with a quirk to his lips.

Clemens huffed another laugh. “Right, yes. I do hope _you_ stay for breakfast, though.”

“I plan to.” Tivek ran a hand through his transmitters, considering the implied length of activities in Clemens’ comment. “I have to admit, I’m somewhat exhausted, though. Is it customary to stay up all night doing... ?”

They emerged through another unmarked door into a back alley behind the convention centre. This was the premiere ward of the Node, which housed only one hotel called _Central Plaza_ in typically direct urakian fashion after its location. It was usually reserved for guests of the embassies and the council as well as private people with a lot of money. After walking out of the alley, Tivek found they just had to cross the meticulously kept plaza gardens housing plants from seventy-two planets in glass-encased mini-biomes to get to the hotel.

“I think it’s customary to try to make out and then fall asleep on each other,” Clemens joked. “That seems to be how it goes for the majority of newlyweds. These days it’s more symbolic, anyway. Most couples have slept together before their marriage. So if you’d rather rest, don’t feel like you have to do this.”

“I just wanted to warn you I probably couldn’t make it for several hours, but I’m perfectly happy to try out your traditions if you are,” Tivek said, allowing a hint of mischief to sneak into his voice.

Since they had no transmitters, reading humans was an acquired art, but their expressions were quite similar to those of the alna and the smirk on Clemens face was very clearly in equal parts joyful and expectant.

They entered the hotel under the illuminated letters spelling its name out in urakian and shan zhean, the only two species on the Node when the place had been built. The carpet under their feet was soft as clouds as they walked towards the receptionist’s desk.

“I look forward to this part of interspecies contact. I can’t say I’ve ever been with an alna before, but I trust you will teach me all I need to know? I can be a very quick study...” Clemens said quietly by his ear, not giving him a chance to reply before he cheerfully hailed the receptionist. Tivek felt his transmitters shudder even as he swallowed his laughter at the brazen flirtation.

“We have been expecting you!” the urakian woman said, after checking their identifications, her four eyes growing lighter with friendly interest. After a quick scroll through her interface she produced a key card from somewhere under the desk. “Room six-two is at the very top. May the stars watch over your stay!”

“And over you,” Tivek and Clemens gave back, all but in unison.

“You also have a visitor, Mr. Artavasdos. He is waiting in the separate lounge.”

The jovial smile on Clemens’ face turned to confusion. He looked at Tivek, but he could only shake his head. According to Hamal, they should have remained undisturbed until well into the morning.

“Thank you,” Clemens said cautiously.

Tivek followed him past the empty chairs through the lobby and into the lounge, leading to him almost running Clemens over when his husband stopped abruptly in the doorway.

Peering past his arm, Tivek saw only one person in the lounge, seated with a perfectly straight back right in the middle of a couch. He was human male and though his skin was lighter than Clemens’ and his eyes a bright blue, the shape of his face, the long limbs and even the shrewd, narrow-eyed look with which he considered them immediately put Tivek in mind of Clemens.

“What is this?” Clemens asked with forced gaiety. “A family reunion on my wedding day? Why, you _really_ shouldn’t have.”

“I watched your _wedding_ on the television. Very quaint, all this singing,” the man said. “Are you quite done yet?”

Even the irony that laced his voice was similar to Clemens’ way of joking, though sharpened to a harder point. Tivek squeezed past Clemens to stand by his side and get a glimpse at his face. Clemens was smiling still, but the expression looked strained.

“What is this supposed to accomplish, father? It’s done, we’re already married.”

“By our laws, your wedding is not finished until it is consummated. Besides, you know that civil contracts outside of the empire don’t concern us.” The man turned his gaze towards Tivek. “No offence. You are not responsible for my son’s use of you in his temper tantrum, Tivek Kenet Hijati. But High Byzantium hasn’t needed human alliances as long as it has existed and we don’t need alien alliances, either. Especially not a prince of the empire. You have many suitable matches to choose from at home, Clemens.”

High Byzantium – Tivek had heard this name only rarely until a couple of weeks ago, when he had seen it noted as the place of birth on his fiancé’s personal data sheet and looked into it. It was a portion of the eastern part of the humans’ domain. The human embassy tended to be a bit close-lipped about it and the general consensus among the other ambassadors was that this was because they were worried about the light High Byzantium would shed on humanity in the greater galactic community. The rulers of this dominion attended no human council sessions and, aside from rare exceptions, refused to let any other species, or even humans not born within their territory, enter what they described as their empire. Its only contact with the other humans were strictly limited trade deals. They were, for all intents and purposes, an independent splinter faction whose great wealth of planets with valuable resources left them without need for assistance.

Of course, it was not all that unusual that in a sector as large as High Byzantium, with billions and billions of humans, some people would leave. Tivek hadn’t given it that much thought, guessing that his husband’s ambitions as an ambassador simply made him a bad fit for the isolationist politics of High Byzantium. He hadn’t expected him to be royalty.

Tivek looked at Clemens in open surprise, but Clemens avoided his gaze.

“ _Merchant_ prince,” Clemens corrected his father irritably. “And that title is as worthless here as my marriage would be in High Byzantium. Don’t worry, though, I am happy to exchange the former for the latter.”

His father sighed as he rose from the sofa. “I see it’s still pointless trying to talk to you. Very well, you do what you must. Just remember that when you are done playing around, it will take a lot to rebuild the trust you have lost at home.”

“I have no intention to-”

Clemens’ father did not hear him out and instead walked wordlessly past them out of the door, crossing the lobby with long strides.

Clemens spat a word in some local dialect that Tivek’s translator did not catch. He had a feeling he knew the general meaning, though.

“Well, wasn’t that nice? You’ve met my family,” Clemens said, hands balled into fists. “Would you still like to go up to the room?”

Tivek’s shock subsided seeing Clemens clearly upset. The news were a lot so close to their wedding, but for now it would be best to give Clemens a chance to cool down.

“Yes, we should speak in private,” he said gently.

The ride up to the highest floor in the elevator was filled by the deepest quiet Tivek had ever known.

Their suite, once they located it on the long hallway, was beautiful. The bed was low and broad in the urakian style, with thick pillows at the top and bottom and shan zhean curtains with intricate spiral patterns hung up around the frame. Small purple flowers bloomed in pots on the table and on the window sill. A bottle of midnight blue alnaian berry wine stood on the bedside table.

Tivek unlaced his sandals and sat down on the edge of the bed. Clemens followed his example, but remained silent, staring straight ahead.

“I realise now I made a lot of assumptions about you in the name of good manners,” Tivek began, finally, when it became clear Clemens was at a loss for words. “When you added no one but friends to the guest list, I thought you had no living or close family, much like me, and I did not want to pry. I didn’t ask where in High Byzantium you came from because your embassy had vetted you and doing more might have been seen as distrust. I think, perhaps, had I been a bit more curious, this wouldn’t have come as such a surprise.”

“Stop that,” Clemens said. “This wasn’t your fault, it’s mine. In case you’re worried, the embassy does know about my family. I don’t think they truly realise just how powerful they are within High Byzantium, though, especially since my family has always categorically refused to trade with outsiders. On paper, they just own a lot of companies, none of that ‘King’ and ‘Prince’ nonsense. I _might_ have undersold the point to my superiors on purpose to keep them from getting ideas,” Clemens admitted hesitantly. “I didn’t come here to be ambassador of or to High Byzantium, after all. I came to get away from it.”

“May I ask why? Aside from perhaps the obvious. Your father seems quite – severe.”

Clemens gave a brief smile. It was not as dazzling as the ones he usually provided, but looked honest.

“My father is harsh, but I don’t dislike my whole family, although I do find High Byzantium sitting in its hidey hole absolutely backwards.” He shook his head and continued with a note of disdain: “It’s really not a very interesting story, all told. The boring little tragedies people go through are always just the same, aren’t they? I’m the oldest child and my parents had a road laid out for me that I didn’t want to walk. My father still thinks I will come to my senses – never mind that I have been gone for three years and I’m thirty-two, which is a bit late for meaningless teenaged rebellion.”

Tivek nodded his head. “These little tragedies can still be very sad,” he told him.

“Downright depressing. Just what I need to put on you on our wedding day,” Clemens said, raising a brow.

“Well, it’s one day. There’ll be another one and hopefully many others,” Tivek reasoned. “If you want to separate yourself from High Byzantium, marrying an alien was certainly a smart choice. It will secure your place in the embassy as well.”

He had meant it as a compliment to Clemens’ strategizing, but Clemens looked pained.

“I didn’t just marry you in hopes that it would help my career or keep my family at bay. If I had wanted an easy job with a pre-built ladder and a convenient husband to bore me for the rest of my life, I could have just stayed at home.” Clemens turned and clasped Tivek’s left hand tightly between his own. “I’m not going to lie: I did agree to it to get a foot on solid ground here on the Node. Still, I wanted someone that I liked. When you were stationed on the Node a year ago, I read about the role your negotiations played in the Peace of Galga and the ceasefire in the Battle for the Three Suns, so I was ready to be impressed. Then I met you and imagine my delight that you turned out to be a nice person, too.” He cocked his head. “Well, you could have been a _little_ less nice, actually. It’s unfair to be both so competent and also socially aware. How am I to keep up?”

Hearing Clemens crack jokes again lightened Tivek’s two hearts; and feeling that, he realised quite suddenly how much weight had been placed on them by seeing Clemens in such a sombre mood. He placed the hand with the ring over Clemens’ fingers.

“I don’t think you will have any problems at all to match me in the professional field. You’re _very_ charming, after all,” he said, transmitters shaking gently in amusement.

“High praise. I must live up to it.”

Clemens raised Tivek’s hand up to his mouth to kiss his fingers and then the ring. Tivek smiled at him.

“I can go to my apartment if you would prefer to have the room for yourself for the night,” he said, feeling that he should give the option. Clemens wanted to please and after the scene in the lounge, who could blame him? But Tivek just wanted him to be comfortable. “I don’t know much about what happened between you two, but I can tell that seeing your father again was difficult.”

“Oh no, he’s not going to crawl out of that fenced enclosure of space just to ruin my wedding night,” Clemens decided. “You’re the only one who can cancel that.”

“I won’t,” Tivek said.

So Clemens took Tivek’s face in his hands and pushed him down on the bed. Tivek pondered for a moment the difference of approach as he stared up at him in pleased surprise. He probably would have kept talking, as he always did, slow and careful, but Clemens was so much more direct. This bravery was not a trait all humans shared, he already knew; rather, it was his husband’s nature, which he was now beginning to fully understand, seeing with interest that while Clemens had always been confident in words, his actions matched, in small moments like this and when he crossed the universe to escape his family’s plans and make his own.

Another one of Tivek’s double-edged traits was the pondering running commentary in his head. He put his arms around Clemens and hushed it.

Their robes were heavy, but loosened easily under quick hands. The complicated knots around the broad belt gave Clemens no trouble, even dealing with them blind, as his mouth was still on Tivek’s.

“You managed that quite quickly,” Tivek said playfully as they separated from their kiss.

“I asked the man who tied me up to show me the knots closely,” Clemens murmured with laughter in his voice and winked. “Just in case I wanted to wear traditional alnaian garb again, of course.”

Clemens shook off the fabric and Tivek’s chuckle tapered off into a soft sound of astonishment.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Tivek said. “I just didn’t realise from the charts we were provided that humans had hair everywhere.”

He had noticed that some of it grew on their faces, particularly with the males, but Clemens had quite a bit more on his chest and legs and arms as well as between his thighs, where Tivek’s eyes were drawn for other reasons.

“It varies a lot from person to person,” Clemens said. “Some shave it off, too. Would you prefer I did?”

“No, I like it,” Tivek decided, dragging his hand down to the curls on his chest. “It’s soft.”

“You don’t have any at all. Is that always the case?”

“Yes. Our skin is actually made up of very small scales,” Tivek explained, still running his hands up and down Clemens’ torso, quite liking the way he leaned into his touch.

“I see. Is it tougher than human skin?” Clemens brushed his hand gently over Tivek’s arm. “I could grab you a little more firmly if you need me to.”

“I don’t think it is. I felt that just fine. They’re not like the leathery scales the shan zhea have. But you’re still welcome to grab me firmly every once in a while,” he joked.

“Oh, now it gets interesting,” Clemens answered with a laugh. “I expect this I file away as personal information rather than a species diversion?”

“Yes, though you have to believe me on that account. I would mind if you grabbed anyone else of my species to find out.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Though the jovial tone was still there, Clemens leaned down to kiss him again with an urgency that underscored the point. His half-hard cock dragged over Tivek’s stomach and Tivek pushed a hand between them to wrap his fingers around it. The hard breath against his mouth told him that in this respect, their anatomy was similar enough.

He explored the shape of his cock with lust driven by curiosity, running his fingers over the soft skin, tracing the line of the head, cupping his balls, which were external for human men and, judging by the shiver that went through Clemens, quite sensitive. His cock looked similar enough to Tivek’s own, though the curve of Tivek’s was a bit more pronounced and it lacked the defined tip.

Clemens’ warm panting against Tivek’s neck, which he was attacking with kisses, was interrupted by a thoughtful hum. He leaned his head back as Tivek gave him a questioning glance.

“You’re glowing.”

“That happens when we are, well, excited in this way.”

The transmitters on his head were indeed giving off a faint green light, spread out on the pillow and sheets as they were.

Clemens gently carded his fingers through them.

“I’d imagine that makes the teenage years awkward, but damn me if it isn’t beautiful.”

Chuckling, Tivek tugged him down into another kiss, arm wrapped around Clemens’ neck. His husband pulled playfully at his lower lip with his teeth as his hand joined Tivek’s and he adjusted his hips and pressed their cocks together.

There was little grace in the way they rutted against each other and into their hands, but also the intoxication of desperate need that freed one of such expectations. Their fingers intertwined and sometimes, Tivek became aware of the press of their rings against heated flesh. His other hand searched Clemens’ back, ran over his round backside, his thighs, feeling the muscles tense as Clemens pushed forward.

Then Clemens made a movement of his wrist, just so, and Tivek let out a loud huff of breath, his transmitters brightening once more, then burning out like flames in a strong gust of wind with his peak, leaving him breathless.

Their fingers were slick with his come now and he moved his hand faster on Clemens’ cock, watching his face. They locked eyes and Clemens spent himself over Tivek’s shimmering green torso.

After taking a moment to allow Clemens to come down, Tivek located a discreetly placed box of tissues inside the nightstand and used it to clean himself and Clemens, running it up his thigh and soft cock. Clemens, who had rolled onto his back, smiled widely.

“You’re handsome and witty and now courteous, too. I am spoiled,” he said, reaching out for Tivek.

Shaking his head, Tivek balled up the tissue and let himself be pulled in. Clemens held him closer than Tivek would have dared with the first rush of lust over, but it was comfortable and he brushed his transmitters back to lay his head on Clemens’ shoulder. He hoped they would fall asleep like this often.

“I’m glad we did not postpone the wedding night,” Tivek said after a long moment of enjoying their closeness in silence.

“Me too,” Clemens said, rubbing his thumb along Tivek’s shoulder. “And I feel that I have not yet properly thanked you for not calling your embassy to terminate our marriage after that unhappy surprise tonight.”

“Of course not. You’re my husband. We can’t fall at the very first hurdle,” Tivek answered, keeping his voice light where his meaning was true.

“I still intend not to put more in your path from now on,” Clemens answered, a smile on his lips and gratitude in his eyes. He kissed Tivek’s forehead, a little amusement entering his expression again. “You know, I think this is the start of a very fruitful diplomatic relationship.”


End file.
